Setting up the shot

SETTING UP THE SHOT

A journey through IDEAS, created and compiled by Annabelle Peterson

“To me, photography is an art of observation. It’s about finding something interesting in an ordinary place…I’ve found it has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them.”

         Photography, much like this portfolio, zooms into the mind of the photographer by looking at how they have chosen to create and display their work. In this portfolio, I chose to include the first design charrette, “Sketching a Sense of Place”, and IDEAS journal entries depicting natural aesthetics and characteristics. Because of my bias to my photography background, I chose these pieces because I value the diversity of people and places and enjoy synthesizing all unique traits that come together and create this broad definition we have called “beauty”. In photography, the different styles and types of photos reflect the visual attraction of our world. My vision is to use photography to help express how setting up a shot can be compared to the role of bias, aesthetics, and empathy in all aspects of a society and city. Some of the concepts to be explored through photography will be the way that the landscape shapes our way of thinking like how it shapes the way a photo is taken...how a design affects users...how individuals see their surroundings and perceive its qualities.

              Hill Hall’s lobby has presented many challenges over the course of the Investigating Mines project. Overall, the biggest issues was that the lobby lacked motivation to use the space. Through the process of ethnographic, graphic, and aesthetic analysis, the bugs from all users of the space is apparent. Between the inornate walls and low ceilings that caused a cramped feeling, the lobby suffers ill misuse. To create a space that is worthwhile and increases usage, the solution must provide features for users to interact with as well as stop to admire. Determining an answer to these challenges is not easy, however, the solution itself is rather simple. To provide users with a lobby worth spending time in, the current glass frames with pictures of graduate students and faculty would be replaced with pictures alongside easily scanned QR codes. These codes link to the graduate student or faculty member’s website where people can view their office hours, available schedules, and contact information. Other wall décor could include posters of pictures from past events as well as calendar dates for upcoming activities such as free pour Friday and lab demos. In this solution, two major issues from the user perceived bugs list will be eliminated.. Another change to the space is to add more comfortable furniture as well as logic games and toys would be added around the room to provide interactive features for the users of the space. By providing these changes, the lobby would see an increase of people using the space rather than simply passing through. Through this resolution, the lobby to Hill Hall will become a welcoming area for all people.

Traveling Thru

I See Truth

I am the last

                                  Sketching a Sense of Place

I Am The Landscape

10/24 Bringing Objects to Class

I See What They Covered Up

                                       Lessons From The Trees

          My story starts with the thump. It had been only three months of getting my license. The world bore a renewed gleam with bright colors and vibrant energy. The roads never seemed so warm and energetic. My newfound privilege behind the wheel only offered me happiness.

          Driving was a danger in my family, one that was riddled with the threat of my dogs. I was only five when my dad ran over our English Springer Spaniel’s paw. My mom nearly collided with our other two pugs.

          “We’re going to be late.” My sister complained. Darkness crept upon the landscape and swallowed us whole. The headlights failed to warn me of the danger in the back. I accelerated backwards and out of our garage, the wheels crunching on gravel and colliding with my dog.

       WHOOMP! WHOOMP!

           I say my goodbyes in a sterile white room of a twenty-four-hour vet in front of people I didn’t know and my mom. “Goodbye, Jake. I’m so sorry.” I uttered before leaving, know this was my fault and there was no way I could save him. I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry.

          The days following the event were filled with anxiety and fear. I couldn’t bring myself to approach the end of the driveway and even starting the car was a challenge. To come to terms with what had happened, I begun processing by walking in a forest not far from my home.

          We were soulmates, the path and I. Aspen trees were the guardians of where I walked. The stiff, unyielding bark that coated my hands in dusty powder and musty earth odors bore down into my heart. Day in and day out I came here to process and wonder what I could’ve done better. I could’ve backed out of the driveway slower. I could’ve double checked. I could’ve done so many things that would’ve guaranteed Jake lived another day.

           The more I walked, the more I noticed that I had an unfriendly follower. The bushes cowered in his wake and even the wind didn’t dare to touch him. A day came and he reached out one gnarled finger and yanked my feet out from under me so that I found myself skidding on my face. The cold wood of the soulless creature ripped up my skin and scarred my heart.

Fear penetrated my heart. I could barely walk the path anymore. I turned and ran from the tree’s entangling fingers that crawled along the earth. The closest I ever got was five feet from the dead tree.  The forest grew older and the aspens grew weary. I couldn’t go on. I couldn’t back out of the driveway. I could not approach that tree.

          But there was one brave pine that did not let the terror of the dead tree touch her trunk. She was a tall pine well rooted in the ground. Her leaves didn’t quake when this tree came near. Her shrouded eyes only watched the now empty path. One clouded day came and I had built up only a miniscule amount of courage to come visit the now overgrown path. The tree scrutinized me, her great green boughs swaying.                    “Does this branch hurt you?” She addressed me. I looked from the dead branch to the pine and nodded.

           “My dog has died.” Was my only response. “I do not want to drive anymore. I don’t want to run my other dog over.”

          “You cannot get over the branch because you do not want to trip again. You are too weighed down by fear and sadness to try. Set aside your sadness and continue, but do not forget the past and your faults.”

          Her words made sense but making sense didn’t equate with doing what was right. To move on, to let go of what happened was going belly up for life to attack again. To let go of the fear could make me unwary, could make me prone to accidents occurring again.

          That day, I walked away from the pine, not knowing what to do. The threat of the branch on the path loomed over me. In the time that I was gone from the old pine, the forest, and the dead tree, the path became overgrown.

           I stay awake and stare out of the window. At night when the howling winds come crashing through the neighborhood, they shake even the strongest leaves and pull them to the ground. Sometimes a stubborn green leaf clings to a branch under the relentless gusts. Occasionally, it takes a couple nights for the winds to finally tear the poor soul away from its home, but it always happens.

          The tree lets go of the leaves but they never truly go away. Instead, they pile up in a little monument to what the creature has endured. The oak resists the wind and stays strong no matter what, but never truly lets go of what has happened. He overlooks the monument of leaves in the corner of my yard.

      When I returned to my forest, I do as the trees taught me. My feet reroute myself to the dead branch which has claimed dominance in the forest. Sleek stones with craters of memories called to me from the sides. Take me! Lay me down! They called. Put me to rest!

          At the dead tree’s fingers, I laid five stones and stacked them tall. The stones and their whispers fell silent as I put them down. As soon as my monument was erected, the dead tree receded and faded into the shadows. My monument of stones is dedicated to when I ran over my dog. Jake had been laid down and set to rest. I am not afraid of running over another dog. I am not afraid of passing over the branch.

Goodbye, Jake. Goodbye, driveway.

Design Charrette #1: A Home for Ravens

        I believe that my participation in class as well as during recitation has been outstanding because my top priorities are to remain focused, attentive, and aware of what is going on or what needs to be done. During each class, I vigilantly take notes on important ideas as well as sketch out what comes to mind. My journal is filled with bullet points scrawled out as fast as my hand can write while ideas come rocketing through my mind.. On Monday night recitation, I work well with my groups and am always there to help collaborate on projects and assignments. An example of this was during charrette two. In this case, my partner did not do anything and instead studied for a biology test he had after class. It would’ve been easy for people to give up and refuse to continue designing, but I knew that the weight of the design rested on my shoulders. In all seventy-five minutes allotted, I used each moment to analyze and create a design that would benefit the most citizens.

        What helps me evaluate how my performance has been during class is the feedback I receive from instructors, TAs, and classmates alike. Both Coleman and Tyler remarked that the art that I have compile and completed outside of class is unique and cleverly done; however, value in a sketch isn’t just based off how perfect the first draft is, but the amount of time and effort that has gone into fixing errors and improving skills. For the orthographic drawing, I spent many hours outside of class working on multiple iterations of different sketches or practicing just small portions of a single sketch to improve it.